Warmth
by Fingersofbone
Summary: All Crona's life, he had been subjected to a coldness that he could never escape. Until one day, someone had the courage to be friendly to him. Crona centric.


All Crona's life, he had been subjected to a coldness that he could never escape. He couldn't even fathom what he would do if he was away from it all. He had two people in his cruel life. His mother, who had his entire life planned out for him. And an extension of himself, Ragnarok. Perhaps he really wanted to get away from these two people, but he didn't have the courage. Never could he ever do anything to help anyone but these two people. So he excepted that as his

His mother, who was a witch. She wasn't truly horrible, Crona would argue. She was his mother, after all. You can't truly hate your parents, no matter what wrongs they commit. Even if they are intentionally conspiring against you or are doing something you strongly view as evil or unfair. They will love you unconditionally, so you must do the same for them.

Even though she had spent all of his youth training him to be merciless. Remorse was disgusting, and should never ever get in the way of power and the steps you must take to obtain respect. Always do what is necessary for your success and never think twice about whether your actions are evil, or enlightening. Do what you are told, and never doubt the task you are given as long as it is given by your mother. You can never truly trust _anyone _but your mother. They were all phrases of wisdom from Medusa, and they never quite left Crona's head. They left their mark, constantly reverberating through his troubled thoughts, almost instantly fueling the madness that resided in his corrupt soul whenever he hesitated to kill the innocent.

But it wasn't killing. It was defeating the souls that had no purpose. As long as he could remember, his mother had told him that it was more like... weeding out the weak for your own benefit.

_"Crona,"_ She would say, frowning slightly at his cries of pleas as he was in the compact room with an innocent hare. _"I told you, it's not a crime. Everything has a soul, but souls rarely have value. Purity is weakness. Only those who have the ability, and the drive to become something stronger have value. Only those who strive to become kiishin. Now, kill it."_

Crona could only resist for so long, before he would give in. She was his _mother_, after all. She was the only family that he had. He had to obey. There were no other options.

But, alas, Crona did have a stronger will as a younger child. He would refuse to bend to his mothers darkest whim, and he would get punished. It was then, that the second contribution to the coldness in Crona's black heart was would terrorize him. That, was Ragnarok.

Ragnarok _was _Crona. There was no other way around it. Crona couldn't get away from himself, could he? He had to withstand Ragnarok's constant bellows and scoldings no matter the abuse that followed because he _couldn't get away._ He wasn't brave enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't authoritative enough for Ragnarok to listen to him. He could only whimper and whine as Ragnarok hit him and cursed at him for his idiocy, for his cowardice, for his reluctance. No, Crona never could recuperate after the mental strain from Medusa because directly after would come the corporal punishment from Ragnarok.

Which led him to another thing. Ragnarok _was _Crona, wasn't he? Then why did he always feel the need to hurt him? Why did he have to say such mean things? Wasn't he supposed to be on his side? Why was he so much stronger?

_The madness._

Ragnarok was brave, he was indestructible, he could do anything. He wasn't meek like Crona. He was confident. But, why wasn't Crona like that? Why couldn't Crona be like that? Perhaps it was the whole intoxicating, raw, acidic power that was losing ones sanity. Crona had to be strong. He had to make a name for himself. He had to do as Medusa asked, as Ragnarok had been longing for.

Why?

Because.

It was madness.

And he had no choice but to succumb.

So, he did. He did unspeakable things. Things that involved what the academy would call massive homicidal offenses. But, it was for the good of the strong, right?

Crona had then lost himself. He was corrupt, and he knew it. He was knowledgable of his cracked stability. He also knew he was too far gone for there to be any hope for him. He was insane, and he didn't care.

He often delved into his own thoughts in that period, before he fell into a fitful sleep riddled with nightmares. He would think about what was wrong with him. Surely he should have been a kiishin by now! Why did he still have doubts? Why couldn't he just give in? Why did he have to be such a sad excuse for the son of the snake witch, Medusa? Medusa and Ragnarok were so tolerable for staying with him. He was such a disgrace, a failure, a _wimp._ Crona had never even considered what it would be like to have a friend to tell him otherwise.

It started out like any other fight. The opponent thought that they could beat them, and he showed them otherwise. But, he never quite did kill them. He noticed something while swinging at the scrawny blond girl. Sometime during the fight, she had adopted a gleeful smile. Accompanied with dilated pupils and haphazard limb coordination. She was insane. Then, Crona felt a surge of something. Relief? No. **Hope.** Hope that someone out there was going through the same challenges as him, and could understand him. However, at the time, he just perceived it as annoying.

_"Please, just let me kill you," _He had said, unaware of just how this tiny girl would change his life. He would never have thought that academy students could view him as anything less than evil, so he didn't try to stall. Ragnarok was berating him perpetually without fail. Crona had to finish her off, ignoring the slight excitement pumping through his black veins.

But, something went wrong. She was stronger than him. No, she wasn't. They were... _even._ But she obviously wasn't very used to the catalyst of strength and the wave of intoxication that the madness gave you, for it was obvious that she didn't have a single influence of the personality of the girl that he had seen not too long ago in the church, when he fatally wounded her weapon. No, this was someone else entirely, but he could still feel in his soul, the girl was trying to stop him, but in a different way. He could feel, amidst the chaos and the hair pulling and the blade swinging, a gentle caress spread through his body. He could feel something he had never felt before. Something that took his veins, that were pulsating violently a poisonous substance, and made them instead feel as if they were pumping rich honey into his heart.

Something like...

_Warmth._

He froze, looking down at the girl. The girl who had gash upon gash on her porcelain skin, who was moments away from ending his life. The girl who was _hugging_ him. He could feel tears well in his eyes from happiness and also confusion. And for a moment, Ragnarok didn't say anything. His heart evened out into slow, steady beats. The boy in the scythes reflection was smiling. All because the impossible happened. She was showing him kindness, and that alone was enough to revive his dead heart.

Ragnarok said that they would never accept him. Maka's friends. They would call him out for what he was. _A freak._ Maka didn't even really want to be friends with Crona, she was only introducing him to her group for a good laugh. They were all going to stand there, snickering coldly at him, jeering at him to attack them with the impeccably weaker Ragnarok. But, alas, Crona was mistaken. He was accepted upon meeting the unique group, as one of their own. They had even offered to beat up any idiot who would bully Crona. It was too good to be true. They were all lying, they had to be.

When Crona was invited over to Kidd's house for a party, he was more than unwilling to go. But, Maka said that it would be fun, and that they were all counting on him for being there. Crona, more willing to go to a party than to say no to his only friend, eventually agreed, and once again he was caught off guard.

They were all there, _happy to see him._ They joked around with him, they offered to dance with him, even Patty chased around some boy who called Crona awkward. They were happy he was there, and they liked him for who he was. What more could Crona ask for?

Once again, Crona felt his heart joyfully pump out honey, but it was much warmer this time.

**I feel sad and happy at the same time. *shakes fist in air* DANGIT CRONA?! WHY? **

**Yeah, but seriously. I was originally going to add the part where Medusa confronts Crona, but it seemed okay enough on a happy note. You guys can imagine the plummet from the high that Crona was experiencing at the end to the horror at seeing his mother alive and tiny.**

**Anyways, this was ALL from memory, so i'm sorry that I probably got some of it wrong. And, since I neglected to put it at the top, I DON'T OWN SOUL EATER.**

**Great, well, that's all sorted out, review please! I would love to see your opinion on my more dramatic attempt at writing. Baiii~**


End file.
